Cruel Games
by Annclaire
Summary: GW/RW/DBZ/The Heroic Legend of Arislan/FF7- Trunks, Goten, Goku, Krillin and countless others find themselves trapped in a demon's horrible game with only two endings: win and save your best friend or die and lose everything.
1. Prologue

Cruel Games  
  
(AN: This is from Trunks's POV. I told the plot in the summary. Okay, here are the credits:  
  
Goku, Goten, Krillin and Trunks belong to Toriyama.   
Shin, Shuu, Seiji and Touma belong to whoever created the Samurai Troopers.   
Cloud and Zack belong to whoever created Final Fantasy Seven.  
Duo, Heero, Trowa and Quatre belong to whoever created Gundam Wing.  
Arislan and Daryoon are from the Heroic Legend of Arislan, a totally awesome anime.  
  
There, that's over and done with. I won't repeat the disclaimers in any other chapters. Well,   
off to write more on all of my stories! Geez, WNM, WNN; Hunting The Dragon (if it'll get be   
downloaded onto ff.net without being an error *growl*); The Prince of Saiya; and now Cruel Games.   
So many! Well, enjoy and ja ne! ~AC)  
  
Prologue-  
  
I awoke to a familiar voice, filled with bewilderment.   
  
"What the hell are we doing here? And who the hell are you all? And what's wrong with my   
friend?" I attempted to open my eyelids, groaning as light slipped in through the cracks to burn   
my eyes.   
  
"Goten?" I mumbled, my hands instinctively grabbing my eyes to shield them from the   
light.   
  
"Trunks!" Goten sounded relieved as he cried my name. I felt firm hands lift me to my   
feet. For a moment after his hands left my shoulders, I tottered, blind, unsure of any   
surroundings. I carefully peeled my hands away from my eyes, and opened them. The light of the   
room seared them, and I blinked rapidly until my eyes adjusted. I looked around and immediately   
spotted Goten, who looked extremely confused.   
  
"Where are we?" he questioned, scratching his head.   
  
I peered at my surroundings, and replied, "I have no idea."  
  
The brightly lit room was large and spacious, easily able to hold thirty people and a couple coke   
machines. Instead, it housed only fourteen other human beings, most looking as lost as we were.   
The walls were painted white, but the odd feeling in my gut made me think that perhaps the color   
of them should have been black. The room held no tables, but did have a large stand for at least   
a dozen people to sit on.  
  
"Er, hello," a cautious voice said quietly, causing me to jerk out of my musing. I turned   
to meet warm sea-green eyes.   
  
"Hello," I said, instinctively holding out my hand for a handshake. The auburn-haired   
man's eyes flickered surprise for a moment, then he smiled broadly and accepted my grip. I was   
surprised at the hidden power I could feel in his firm grasp, but said nothing.  
  
As we dropped our hands to our sides, the man introduced himself as Shin Mouri with a strong   
accent I couldn't identify.   
  
"Trunks Briefs," I introduced myself, causing Shin to smirk briefly at the play on words.   
I nodded, admitting my mother's oddness. I pointed towards Goten, who was still gaping around,   
and said, "This is my best friend, Son Goten. Goten, this is Shin..." My words trailed off as I   
noticed Goten's blank expression. I poked the still staring Saiya-jinn in the shoulder, and he   
blinked slowly, his eyes clearing slightly.  
  
"What?" he mumbled, coming out of his daze. I poked him again.  
  
"Goten, this is Shin Mouri. Shin, this is Goten," I informed them both once more. Shin   
smiled at Goten, who grinned goofily back.   
  
"Nice to meet you. Say, do you know where the hell we are?" questioned the ebony-locked   
boy. Shin shrugged helplessly, his smile fading slightly.   
  
"Shin and I have absolutely no clue," a voice announced, and a broad, muscular man with   
locks of dark azure strolled over to drape a comrade-like arm around Shin's shoulder. "By the   
way, I'm Shuu. I'm with this fellow." Shuu didn't have an accent, I noted.   
  
"Shuu, this is Goten and Trunks," Shin said, beaming at his best friend. Shuu grinned   
back, his dark blue eyes twinkling.   
  
"Nice to meet you both. Do you know where any food is in this joint?" he questioned.   
  
"Food!" Goten and I groaned together. My best friend made a face.   
  
"No," he declared, the single word coming out in a low whine. "And I'm starved! It's   
like I haven't eaten in days."  
  
"Goten?" The half Saiya-jinn turned his head towards me in a questioning look. "You   
always feel like that." Goten shrugged as Shin and Shuu chuckled.   
  
"So? I'm still hungry," he complained, crossing his arms against his chest. I raised an   
eyebrow.   
  
"Complaining won't get you anywhere, my friend," I informed him.   
  
"Yeah, I've already whined for about fifteen minutes, and nothing's happened," announced   
another voice, and I turned to see another azure-haired man smiling at us.   
  
"I'm Touma Hashiba," he said, as we shook hands. I introduced myself and Goten, then   
watched as Touma punched Shuu in the shoulder.   
  
"Golden Boy, or rather, Seiji and I were worried when we didn't see you two. Have you   
guys seen Ryo?" The two shook their heads, and Touma looked disappointed. Then he shrugged,   
cheerful once more. I looked around, and spotted a man hovering nearby, his golden tresses   
covering one of his pale violet eyes. He must be Seiji.  
  
"Say, that's a nice piece of work you've got there. A no-datchi, if I'm not mistaken," I   
commented, my eyes falling upon the sword he held ready in his hand. The lone eye I saw   
flickered surprise for a moment, his face expressionless, then he slowly smiled.   
  
"You're not mistaken," he said, his eyes on the blade he gripped. His tone of voice was   
one of a proud father. "This no-datchi is ancient."  
  
"I'll bet!" I declared. "I've only seen no-datchis in museums where I come from. All I   
have is this sword." I drew from its sheath the blade that my future self, Mirai Trunks, had   
given me only a year ago, when he had come to give something to my parents, and then returned to   
his own timeline. "I've been learning for only a year, so I'm not very good, but my f- my   
half-brother gave it to me before he left for home, and he was an expert with it." Seiji ran a   
knowledgeable eye over my blade, expressionless once more.  
  
"It most definitely isn't a no-datchi, but it is well-made for a normal sword," he   
informed me quietly. "Not useful for thrusts, but excellent for passes and downward strikes."   
  
I grinned, remembering the story of cyborg Frieza. "You're not kidding."  
  
"Wow, someone actually got the Golden Boy to talk!" declared Touma, noticing our   
conversation. His hair was a couple shades lighter than Shuu's, I noticed, and he was leaner and   
taller.   
  
"Golden Boy?" repeated Goten, sounding surprised. "That's what I call Trunks." All four   
peered at the half Saiya-jinn curiously.   
  
"Why?" questioned Touma finally. "He isn't blond." I grinned at Goten's discomfort, but I   
also knew we couldn't let out the fact that we had the blood of Saiya-jinn get out.  
  
"Inside joke, right Goten?" I said, giving him a nudge. He managed a goofy smile, but his   
eyes were nervous.   
  
"Yeah. An inside joke," he mumbled, and wandered over to talk to some of the others. Once   
more, I stared around, this time focusing on the faces of the occupants this time.   
  
They seemed to be separated into groups of two. I saw a handsome pale blue, almost blond-haired   
boy who held himself so regally that I knew instantly he was a royal. His sensitive face reminded   
me of a mixture of Touma and Shin. His companion, a muscular fighter, was eyeing everyone warily   
and with a fair amount of distrust. His eyes narrowed as he noticed me watching them, and I   
glanced away. Another golden-locked boy, a fighter by the looks of him, stood in a corner of the   
room, frowning and silent. His dark-haired friend, a grinning boy who looked like he would be fun   
to talk to, watched the crowd wide-eyed. A cheerful boy with a long dark brown braid down his   
back was saying something in a low voice to another boy with dark brown tresses, who watched   
everyone stonily. Near the braided boy and his stone-eyed friend stood a boy with mane of pale   
yellow, almost white, his blue eyes wide as he whispered something to his companion. The boy who   
was being spoken to, his light brown locks falling in front of his eyes, frowned slightly, and   
crossed his hands against his chest. Then my eyes fell upon the last two figures, and I laughed   
loudly in delight, causing many heads to turn.   
  
"Goku! Krillin!" I called, my feet bringing me quickly to the two familiar men. Krillin   
looked up, his worried look easing slightly to a smile.  
  
"Trunks!" he said, reaching up to pat me on the shoulder. "Maybe you know what's going   
on?" His question was hopeful, but I shook my head.  
  
"No clue," I said, but then Goten was there, hugging his father, and laughing.  
  
"Dad!" exclaimed the other half Saiya-jinn, grinning goofily. "How'd you two get here?"   
Goku shrugged, looking thoughtful.   
  
"I have no idea," he said, scratching his head. "And I don't think anyone else here knows   
how they got here either."  
  
"You'd be right!" was the cheerful response from the braided boy, who grinned impishly,   
his pale violet eyes glowing. "By the way, I'm Duo Maxwell." Smiling back, I introduced the   
group.  
  
"Son Goku. Son Goten. Krillin..." I faltered slightly, then remembered the fighter's   
ex-occupation, "the monk, and I'm Trunks Briefs."   
  
"What is your last name, Krillin?" Goku questioned suddenly. "You never told me."   
  
Krillin grinned, looking mischievous. "And I'm not going to. When I became a monk, my last name   
was taken away."   
  
"Come on," Goku pleaded, trying to give the ex-monk puppy dog eyes. Krillin smirked.   
  
"No." With that, he turned away from Goten's father and struck up a conversation with Duo   
as Goku groaned.   
  
"Don't worry Dad, you can weasel it out of him later," Goten informed him, chuckling.   
"Meanwhile, I'm going to see if anyone knows what's going on."   
  
Without further ado, my best friend jogged over to the stands, and stood on one of the seats,   
whistling for silence. All the occupants of the room were mute to stare at him as I hung my head   
in embarrassment.   
  
"Does anyone know why we are all here?" the half Saiya-jinn questioned the crowd, looking   
hopeful. Negative responses rang out through the crowd, and Goten frowned. "No one? Does anyone   
know how we got here?" Again, everyone said no.   
  
Goten's frown deepened into a scowl, and his hands went to his hips. "Well, that sucks."  
  
"I second that opinion!" Duo called, followed Goku's cheerful, "I third it!"   
  
Tense laughter echoed through the room as we all chuckled.   
  
"I know the answer to both questions," a silky, dangerous voice said from above our   
heads, and, as one, we looked upwards.   
  
"Welcome to the Games, my dear warriors," said the dark demon that hovered in mid-air.   
  
In that instant, I knew we were screwed. 


	2. Chapter One

(AN: Thanks to Anonymous, Miki-chan, The Blue Sorceress, and Showndra Ridge for reviewing such a long time ago. *sheepish look* Well, I hope y'all didn't mind the wait. Here's the next thrilling edition of Cruel Games! ~AC)  
  
Cruel Games  
  
Chapter One-  
  
"Well, fuck," declared Duo Maxwell, shattering the stunned silence. His violet eyes were wide with astonishment. "Who-or rather-what the hell are you?"  
  
The demon smirked in cruel amusement and declared into the ensuing silence, "I am known as the Game Master, and it is time to play. To answer both of your questions in one go, you have been brought here by my power to play a wonderful game of my own invention. It should prove be quite amusing."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that we're all screwed?" I couldn't help but inquire, my tone dry as several others turned to blink at me.  
  
As the demon smirked once more, I found myself studying it. Although I'd never seen this type of demon, there could be no doubt that it was a demon. The body shape was like a slender human's, but as black as a night when the moon and stars were extinguished. Two long, graceful wings, much like a bat's, protruded from where a normal person's shoulder blades would be. It had no mouth and I could see no spot on the emptiness that was its face where the voice would come from. Although I had instinctively called the demon an it, there was a radiating aura that nearly screamed masculinity. The only color that strayed from the fathomless black besides the pupils of his eyes was the hue of his tresses. The long, wavy locks which fell to caress his wings were a vivid, intense crimson, the color of spilled blood.  
  
"Well, my good Trunks, that would be because only two of this lovely group will make it out of the Game alive." His voice was mellifluous and sensual, stroking the insides of my ears in an almost comforting manner.  
  
Shocked silence filled the room as most of the warriors, including myself, gaped at the demon, the horrible words filling our brains despite the soothing way he spoke.  
  
At last, someone found his voice. "E-Excuse me?" The shaken response came from the boy with the blond, almost white, hair. His pale blue eyes were wide with bewilderment, and his soft, anxious words were practically apologetic. "I-I'm sorry, but I don't understand-"  
  
"Of course you wouldn't, Master Quatre," interjected the Game Master in a smooth tone, tilting his head in a way that suggested he was slightly amused at the blonde's astonishment. "I haven't explained properly."  
  
It was only then that I was aware that I was trembling, my entire body shuddering as the feeling of apprehension grew. We were all screwed, and not only that, damned.. We were all going to die for the amusement of the demon who called himself the Game Master.  
  
"Really, my good Trunks, you are very much the pessimist, are you not?" The silky words had a touch of callous laughter as my eyes widened and my breath caught in my throat. "In truth, not all of you are damned. Only, oh, fourteen of you are."  
  
For a moment I felt dizzy as all the blood drained from my face. My eyes searched the group frantically for Goten, but he was frozen upon the stands as he stared upwards at the Game Master. "I-I didn't say that out loud.." I managed to whisper that statement, and to my absolute horror, the Game Master laughed.  
  
It was a sound that made Quatre cry out in agony and crumple towards the ground, a sound that was the echo of nails against a chalkboard and a siren's beautiful song melded together. The jarring melody made my stomach twist in my abdomen, and the dizziness was replaced by nausea that didn't fade even after that terrible laughter ended.  
  
"This is my kingdom, my sweet Saiya-jinn, and that means I make the rules." The honeyed words were so pleasant compared to his unbearable laughter that tears sprang, unbidden, to my eyes.  
  
Those infinite eyes swept the group and the Game Master was silent for a moment, his wings twitching idly behind him. "Well, well, well, my little warriors, shall I tell you the rules now? I really am eager to start."  
  
"Somehow, I think these 'little warriors' want to delay the inevitable for as long as possible," came the sarcastic response, and my eyes rose to gaze in disbelief at the blue-haired man known as Touma. He had an odd, mordant smirk on his ashen visage, but his clear blue eyes were unflinching as he gazed at the demon.  
  
Once again, the Game Master laughed, and this time sweat broke out upon my brow at the horrible sound. In the background of the stomach-turning noise, I could hear Quatre whimpering and groaning as he twitched upon the ground.  
  
"E-Enough!" The powerful command ended the demon's laughter as Quatre's brunet friend glared at him. His face was colorless but still authoritative, and, softer this time, he stated, "Enough. We understand that you find us amusing. There is no need to outright mock us."  
  
"You always were so protective of Quatre, were you not, Trowa? Caring enough to let him nearly kill you when he went insane?" The pleasant, almost knowing words flowed from the demon's lips, and Trowa blinked as the blonde whimpered again, a quiet, pitiful sound.  
  
"I didn't /mean/ to." The soft, broken whisper came from the trembling blonde, whose eyes were filled with tears. "I didn't."  
  
"We know, Quatre." The brunet glanced down at his best friend and offered him a gentle smile, so different than the slight frown he had courted earlier. "I've never blamed you. Don't let this demon drag you into that despair again." Once again, his tone had become imposing but this time undeniably tender.  
  
"Be quiet, both of you." The melody that had been the Game Master's voice had hardened suddenly, losing those harmonious notes that had originally soothed my wildly beating heart. Now the voice was just another voice, tinged with slight annoyance. "It is time for me to explain the Game, not for you two to declare love."  
  
"Actually, we'd rather listen to them," Krillin commented, quite unhelpful, and Goku laughed hoarsely from beside the short man.  
  
The Game Master ignored the taunts and spread his wings. Any other taunts that might have been lingering on any of the group's lips instantly fled as the demon seemed to grow larger. He lost that supple, elegant shape and his eyes shifted from deepest black to the embers about to ignite. "The Rules are simple." Nearly everyone cowered away from the demon's voice now, for it had become harsh and discordant, slipping into everyone's head to begin a painful headache. "You will be paired up with your best friend, and together you must fight against the other groups to survive. If one of you dies, the other person will continue to fight until they die. The last man left alive will have his friend brought back to life and they will be returned to their universe." I suddenly had the horrifying sensation that the demon was smiling. "The rest of you will remain dead."  
  
"What sort of fights?" I turned my eyes upon the group in shock at the question, but couldn't tell who had spoken.  
  
"Ah, dear Daryoon, I see you are already trying to figure out a way to keep your precious prince from being killed." The Game Master's voice had shifted back to silkiness, and held a light, tenor hint of pleasure. "I'm afraid that none of your plans will work, but it was amusing to watch you plot them in your head."  
  
The muscular fighter who had been guarding the regal youth fiercely scowled and stepped closer to his trembling prince, determination obvious in his stance. The prince who had reminded me of Shin and Touma stepped closer to Daryoon, seeking shelter from this horror.  
  
The Game Master continued as if nothing had occurred. "There will be several games, one at a time, that will slowly narrow you down to the final man, and then-"  
  
"No," said a resolute and achingly familiar voice. "I refuse to play your game."  
  
Something shattered in my chest at that point as I turned disbelieving eyes upon Krillin.  
  
The monk's face was stark white, drained of all color. His dark eyes were filled with a thousand emotions, but a composed look had strengthened his visage. He was trembling slightly as he repeated his words. "I refuse."  
  
"That is not an option," stated the demon, in such an unruffled tone that another thing in my chest shattered and agony pierced me through.  
  
Krillin tilted his head to the side, and stated, "I don't care if it's an option. This is madness. If Goku wins, then his son dies. If Goten wins, then his father dies. How can you expect me to play knowing that I hold their lives in my hand?"  
  
"Perhaps all four of you will die," the Game Master suggested, but Krillin laughed, a harsh, incredulous sound.  
  
"You forget, demon, that they're Saiya-jinn. They're damn hard to kill." There was a hint of scorn in the former monk's voice.  
  
The pain in my chest increased, and a strangled sound escaped my lips. The demon and the monk turned their eyes upon me, and again came the odd sensation that the Game Master was smiling.  
  
"You /are/ unusual, aren't you, my sweet Saiya-jinn?" the demon acknowledged in that sensual, relaxing tone of his before he refocused on Goku's best friend.  
  
Evidently the Game Master heard the scorn too.  
  
"But humans are not hard to kill." The agreeable song had barely reached my ears when the Game Master moved.  
  
One moment he was floating calmly above our group of warriors; the next, he crouched in front of the stunned monk. His eyes blazed a bloodthirsty red, and then suddenly there was screaming.  
  
The agony in my chest amplified and my knees buckled. My knees thudded against the smooth floor beneath me, but all I could hear were the screams of someone who had seen their worst nightmare and been shattered by it.  
  
My pain overloaded my senses until even the screams were muted, and it took me a long moment to realize that the screams had tapered off into a deathly silence.  
  
Shuddering and gasping for breath, and I glanced up with pain-blurred eyes and froze, every muscle in my trembling frame locking into place.  
  
Krillin lay sprawled on his back, his vacant, lifeless eyes gazing up at the ceiling. The expression on his face was one of not quite relief, but a mixture of incredulity and torment. He had wanted to die, to end whatever hell the demon had just put him through, and yet he had wanted desperately to live. One limp hand rested gently on his chest as if striving to catch his soul when it had escaped his frame. The other arm was flung upon his unmarred throat, as if to keep some unknown horror from tearing into the delicate flesh.  
  
As the agony in my chest was replaced by anguish, I struggled to stand just in time to hear Goku's grief-stricken scream of rage. My eyes rose from Krillin's corpse to see the look of total woe on the face of my best friend's father. There was a gleam to his obsidian eyes that something in his mind had just snapped, and now all of his reason was lost.  
  
"Monster!" The enraged Saiya-jinn howled, blazing into SSJ3 and launching himself at the demon who had just killed his best friend.  
  
And Goten and I were powerless to stop him.  
  
(To be continued) 


End file.
